


the recruit

by bluebeholder



Series: the accidental epic [34]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: All Thanks to Umberto Eco, Fascism, Gen, Major Original Character(s), Political Rhetoric, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebeholder/pseuds/bluebeholder
Summary: In 1930, Grindelwald steps up his recruitment campaign, taking aim at young Englishmen. Seventeen-year-old Hugh Taylor is directly in his crosshairs--and his own best friend is Grindelwald's ammunition.





	the recruit

**Author's Note:**

> This is uncomfortable.
> 
> It was uncomfortable to write.
> 
> It will be uncomfortable to read.
> 
> It is plot-relevant but not plot-necessary.
> 
> This is the story of how a young man gets recruited into joining a fascist regime.

Hugh Taylor came through the door into the Wolf’s Head tavern on Knockturn Alley with care. It wasn’t the kind of place for a good young wizard to be seen, but the message from Stephen had said to meet here. A meeting on Diagon Alley would have made sense—beating the book rush for the fall, getting supplies and so on—since it’s going to be their seventh year.

But Knockturn Alley?

Maybe Stephen’s just got it into his head that they should have covert meetings. As if they’re important sorts. Stephen’s given to grandiose dreams, being a Gryffindor; Hugh, a proud Ravenclaw, much more appreciates standing with two feet on the ground.

The tavern is small but clean, faint music playing in the background, and kept dark. Dark for dark business, Hugh supposes. He ignores the stares of the few patrons in favor of sweeping the room for Stephen, who is waiting at a table in the back of the room. Hugh gets halfway across the room when he sees the hooded figure sitting next to Stephen, nearly vanishing in the shadows.

Stephen waves at him, but doesn’t speak. He looks excited, and deeply so. Hugh counts his hollow-sounding footsteps—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine—and then he’s at the table. The legs scream on the wooden floor, unsettling in the dim quiet.

“Good to see you, Hugh. Summer’s been too long,” Stephen says with a brilliant grin. They’ve been mates since first year, even with House rivalry. There’s no one Hugh trusts more. After they finish out their last year at Hogwarts, they’ll be trying to become Aurors together, because no one else could possibly be the other’s partner.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Hugh says cautiously. “What’s this about? Why Knockturn Alley?”

“This is Mr. Travers,” Stephen says, gesturing to the hooded man.

Hugh looks at him. With a boldness he doesn’t feel, he says, “Is there a reason for the hood, sir?”

“I’d prefer not to have my face seen,” the man says, with the faintest of French accents. “You understand, of course, that these are…difficult times.”

“They are,” Hugh says. “Someone cut Grindelwald’s symbol on the wall in this very alley last week, it isn’t safe to be here.” He looks at Stephen, hoping his friend will get the message.

Stephen ignores him. “Look, I’ve been talking to Mr. Travers,” he says. “Ben—seventh year from my house, you know, Quidditch captain? Just graduated?—he introduced us when I was talking to him about careers.”

Something about this has Hugh’s stomach unsettled. “What kind of careers?”

“Brave ones,” Travers says, leaning forward on the table. “Noble ones. The kind that make us like the heroic wizards of old.”

“Like Godric Gryffindor!” Stephen says, eyes shining. He seizes hold of Hugh’s hand. “Or Merlin!”

Hugh pushes his friend away. “What kind of careers?” he repeats. “There are plenty of good ones out there, no need to be like Merlin.”

“There are few enough great wizards in the modern world, Mr. Taylor,” Travers says. “There are chances, for wizards willing to take action.”

“You’re still not telling me what I’d be doing,” Hugh snaps. He turns to Stephen. “What have you done lately? What’s going on here?”

Stephen shrugs. “I delivered a Portkey,” he says. “Rescued a lady from some creep in Knockturn Alley, delivered a few messages.”

“That isn’t exactly great,” Hugh says. He narrows his eyes at Travers.

“Greatness comes as you tell your story,” Travers says smoothly. “This isn’t the time for questions, it’s the time for action.”

Hugh sits back and folds his arms. “Answer my questions or I’m leaving right now and taking Stephen with me,” he says.

With a sigh, Stephen turns to Travers. “Just tell him,” he says, pleading. “Hugh’s smart, he’ll understand.”

Travers leans forward, and though his attitude is friendly Hugh is so tense that it seems like a threat. “Mr. Taylor, I’ll be clear with you,” he says. “I represent a group of very powerful men who have concerns about those not aligned with their goals. The rightness of our cause isn’t something that can be trusted to the common man. The weak-willed, the defectively constituted…they have no place in the vanguard of this new order.”

Powerful men.

In the darkness of the Wolf’s Head, Hugh hears that loud and clear. He knows who those men are, everyone does these days. The rumors are everywhere. The symbol was on the wall of Knockturn Alley.

“Stephen,” Hugh says, despairing as he turns to his friend, knowing the answer to his question already, “you didn’t join up with _Grindelwald,_ did you?”

The Gryffindor draws himself up proudly. “Yes, I did,” he says. “Look at the world, Hugh! You’ve talked yourself about all the problems with it all! We’re poor and getting poorer, in England and everywhere else. Muggles just keep on taking and taking and we just _let_ them. We hide! We’re _besieged_ , and it’s not just the outside! It’s in the Ministry, people scheming to keep us in line for their own gain.”

Hugh suddenly doesn’t care about anyone listening. “What are they getting? Tell me!”

“Power over you,” Travers interjects smoothly. He still sounds friendly, but there’s an acid bite at the edge of his words. “Power over wizards who sacrifice their freedoms and traditions in the name of a so-called safety which does nothing at all to protect us. Children are beaten by Muggles for accidental displays of magic and the governments do nothing but cover it up.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s right to start a war!” Hugh says hotly. “There’re other ways—we could do better than that!”

Stephen’s whole face is alight with imagined glories. It’s the same way he looked when Gryffindor won the House Cup last year. “We can!” he says. “We need heroes in the vanguard! Like you. Good wizards—the _best_ wizards.”

“There’s a war coming,” Hugh says sharply. “There have been attacks—wizards have been killed. I don’t want to see you dead!”

“I’m glad to die if it means saving more people,” Stephen says fiercely.

Hugh slides his chair back hard. “No,” he says. “Come on, Stephen. Let’s _go_.”

“It’s nothing big,” Stephen pleads. “There’s no war yet—maybe never, if we can just get people to _listen_ —and for now it would be you and I, doing the things we’ve always wanted!”

“ _No_. Grindelwald’s wrong about all this. The Statute protects us, the world doesn’t need to be changed this way!”

Travers’ voice is cold and hard. “Grindelwald represents the will of the people of the world. The International Confederation of Wizards is rotting from the inside out. He represents the will of the oppressed, the poor, the downtrodden, the forgotten.”

Hugh looks at the man and sees a faint glint under his hood, as if his eyes caught the light. “He damn well doesn’t represent my will,” he says.

“Is your will to be a slave to the Muggles?” Travers asks. “Or will you continue to bow down?”

“I’d rather that than be a killer!” Hugh stands up and his chair goes over with a loud bang onto the floor. Every eye in the Wolf’s Head turns to them, but Hugh ignores them. He takes two steps backwards. “Stephen, don’t do this!”

Stephen looks shaken. “I’ve got to,” he says. “Someone’s got to _change_ things.”

“Change them without me,” Hugh says.

“Hugh—” Stephen starts, but Hugh is already bolting for the door.

He breaks out into the dimness of Knockturn Alley and runs for the safety of Diagon Alley. At the corner Hugh stops and slumps against the wall, breathing hard. Stephen’s one of Grindelwald’s people now. He’s a traitor to everyone. Everything. The whole wizarding world!

Behind him there are running footsteps. “Hugh!” Stephen shouts.

Without thinking Hugh draws his wand as he turns. “Don’t come any closer.”

Stephen stops, visibly stricken, hands up. “I just—Hugh, I only thought—”

“You thought what?” Hugh snarls. He’s got to be angry—he’s just got to, it’s the only way he won’t cave to Stephen. “That I’d be so stupid? He kills wizards, Stephen! You won’t be fighting Muggles, you’ll be fighting _wizards_! Just like what happened in Brussels, or—”

“All right, all right!” Stephen says. He shakes his head. He looks exactly like the person that Hugh’s always known, but different. “I know. I know what I’ll be doing but I’m glad to do it. I just wanted you with me. You’re the smart one.”

Hugh nearly drops his wand. “Then listen to me!” he says. He wants to _shake_ his friend.

“You try to be smart and solve this your way, and I’ll solve it mine,” Stephen says. He sounds bleak. “I don’t…good luck with it all. For what it’s worth…I hope you do it.”

A sense of foreboding washes over Hugh despite the brilliantly sunny day, light gleaming off the windows. “You aren’t coming back to Hogwarts.”

“No. I’ve got to go. Australia, I think.” Stephen swallows hard. “If you change your mind.”

“I’m not going to change my mind,” Hugh says. His wand hand’s shaking. “Not even for you.”

Stephen nods. He takes one step back, then another, and then he turns and walks back into the darkness of Knockturn Alley. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

Hugh almost stops him. Almost runs after him. Almost tells him to wait up, the same way he had their very first year on their way to Charms, when they’d become friends.

But Hugh doesn’t.

There’s nothing he can do for Stephen anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is the same Stephen who snuck Queenie the Portkey that took her to Grindelwald.
> 
> All of this derives from Umberto Eco’s “Ur-Fascism”, which is…worth a read to anyone in the modern age. The characteristics he provides (except newspeak and machismo, really, newspeak because *I* am bad at it and machismo because I’m not interested in depicting sexual prowess as a form of political potency) are all on display throughout the rhetoric provided by Travers and Stephen. [You can read the article here](http://www.nybooks.com/articles/1995/06/22/ur-fascism/).
> 
> The phrase “defectively constituted” comes from Wilhelm Schallmayer and his conceptions of the eugenics movement. Those who suffered from mental illness, were gay/lesbian/other (then classified as issues of the mind per the psychology of the day), or were in similar such categories put society at risk by continuing to produce children. I personally check two boxes on this list (bipolar, bisexual) and I’m sure many of you check more than one of the rest. 
> 
> I promise the next story will be slightly less painful than this one.


End file.
